


Not An Addict

by qrantaire (rivenjolras)



Series: Fixin' Things [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Addiction, Codenames, Denial, First Kiss, M/M, Sexual Tension, Shotgunning, deacon is a fucking mess, unnamed sole survivor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivenjolras/pseuds/qrantaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deacon isn’t an addict. </p>
<p>But when he sees Fixer bring that cancer stick up to his lips, suddenly he <i>wants</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not An Addict

Deacon isn’t an addict. 

But when he sees Fixer bring that cancer stick up to his lips, suddenly he _wants_. Fixer flicks his lighter once, twice, and swears. Deacon steps into Fixer’s field of vision with a light of his own. Fixer leans in for the light, and the orange of the flame bounces off of his face in the dusk. Deacon’s mouth feels dry as a desert.

Deacon’s hands don’t shake.

Fixer pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and blows smoke into the air. He closes his eyes and lets out a contented sigh. Deacon breathes in deeply. He hasn’t moved away.

“Do you have a spare, pal?” 

Fixer opens his eyes, only a little startled. Deacon gestures to the pack. He shakes his head. “Last one, unfortunately. I haven’t picked any up on our last run.” Fixer tilts his head up slightly, and looks down at Deacon through his glasses. “I didn’t know you smoked?” Deacon feels oddly judged.

“Sometimes. Probably haven’t, since… well…” Deacon lets the thought trail off. He thinks of the last time he had one- his hands shaking, tears blurring his vision, so many fucking people dead. They’re all gone. Gone, and he had only saved a few, ushering whomever was still standing out the escape hatch. Out of those, only half made it to HQ itself, less than that even recovered. _Christ_. Deacon closes his eyes, counts backwards. _Ten… nine…. eight…_. He’s fine when he gets to seven.

Fixer is peering at him silently as he puffs. They’re crouched in some alley in some random end of the city. Nowhere near Hangman’s, no chance of them hitting a settlement before the dark really gets dangerous. It’s been a long fucking day.

Deacon is pretty good with tells. He notices Fixer’s expression when he makes some sort of final decision. Deacon waits.

Fixer gestures with his finger, _come closer_. His mouth is occupied. Deacon steps so he is close enough to touch, the distance just a little short of respectable. Fixer pulls the cig out of his mouth, set in a fine line, and reaches for Deacon’s t-shirt, grabs and _pulls_.

Deacon makes a startled noise, then a whimper when Fixer forces his tongue past his lips, and pushes the smoke into his mouth. Deacon is shaking. Fixer’s hand is still twisted in the front of his shirt, and the lit cigarette is dangerously close to the bare skin of his neck. His other hand snakes up to grasp Deacon’s cheek. The kiss is rough, forceful, and absolutely fucking perfect. It’s also their first. It isn’t quite how Deacon pictured it.

Fixer rinses and repeats the action. Draws in the smoke, releases it into Deacon’s waiting mouth. Fixer’s thumb on his cheek feels bruising. His t-shirt surely won’t survive this encounter. Deacon wonders absently if he is trying to break him.

When Fixer lets go of him, his pupils are dilated. Deacon wonders if it’s from the nicotine or if there’s something else. His own lips are tingling and he licks the top of his teeth, chasing the taste. Fixer’s eyes are boring into his.

Just as quickly as it happened, it was gone. He turns away and speaks but Deacon doesn’t hear him. He’s too busy focusing on breathing. Fixer glances back at Deacon, and he nods in response. That seems to be just fine. Fixer gets to his feet and draws his weapon. Deacon follows numbly.

Deacon realizes he is an addict.

**Author's Note:**

> Ultra thanks to deaconvevo for being my sounding board for this. :-)


End file.
